Unwritten 1

"Felicity Carruthers?" The voice spoke with elegance and poise, and Felicity felt slightly inadequate as she looked up from her book at the dark-haired woman who spoke. Something about the air of quiet confidence and authority in her stance reminded Felicity indefinably of her mother--and her grandmother, and her mother's friends, and a whole lifetime of her role models, all of whom had gone to Westcroft just like the woman standing in front of her. Just like Felicity was doing now. To say that she felt a bit of pressure to do well would be the understatement of a lifetime.

She sprang to her feet, closing the book and hoping that the other woman would notice the title. "Yes, I'm Felicity," she said. She brushed away a bit of grit from her school uniform and self-consciously ran her fingers through her sandy blonde hair, trying to look as immaculate as possible. She shivered a little, although she wasn't sure if that was from anticipation or just from standing in the shadows of the massive, windowless building in the early fall chill.

The woman smiled generously. "I'm Camryn," she said. "Camryn Halloway, I'm one of the senior girls. I'm to be your guide today and help orient you to life at Westcroft College for Women." Maybe it was just Felicity's imagination, but Camryn even seemed to be dressed better, despite the fact that they were wearing identical clothes. She felt quietly awed. Would she really be that poised, that glamorous after four years at Westcroft?

"Hi," she said, returning Camryn's smile with a nervous grin of her own. "Felicity Carruthers," she said, sticking her hand out before realizing that she'd already introduced herself once, and that Camryn had known her name even before that. "Um...sorry," she said. "I'm just a little..." She blushed. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time. I really want to do well." She felt the smile grow even more anxious. "Okay, more like 'need'. I'm fourth-generation Westcroft; I don't know if I could look Mom in the face if I washed out."

Camryn shook her hand gracefully. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, Felicity," she said. "Legacy girls always seem to get the hang of things quicker, and I can already tell from the way you stand that your mother has prepared you well. You've got the posture of a good Westcroft girl, Felicity. And I think you have the makings of one as well."

Felicity let out a sigh. "Thanks," she said. She held up the book. "I've been brushing up on the school rules," she said. "Mom said that experience was the best teacher, but, well, every little bit helps, right?"

Camryn took her hand and led her towards the entrance. "It does help, Felicity, and I'm certainly glad to hear you care about respecting Westcroft's rules and traditions. But your mother was very right. There are some...unwritten rules, things that you'll only learn by being a student here." She took out a key and unlocked the heavy oaken door, pulling it open and gesturing to Felicity to step inside.

Felicity's heart sank. She'd always been a little bit paranoid about rules, ever since she was a kid. Her mom hadn't exactly been stern, but she'd had an air about her that made disobedience practically unthinkable; Felicity had grown up with more fear of one disappointed look from Sarah Carruthers than other children did of time-outs, spankings, and groundings. Her private fear in life was that there were secret rules that she wouldn't find out about until after she'd broken them, and now, it looked like it was coming true. "What, um...what kind of unwritten rules?"

They headed into the warmth of Westcroft's main hall, and Felicity took in the vast, shadowy foyer with wide blue eyes. Just entering the building felt like a major step for Felicity--Westcroft did not offer tours to prospective students. "You don't select Westcroft," her mother had said. "It selects you." Even as the scion of alumni, Felicity had never been allowed inside the college halls until today. Her mother had never even described the place, despite her best efforts at cajoling the information out of her. She shivered again, despite the baking warmth inside the school.

"Well, they're not exactly rules so much as traditions," Camryn said, locking the door behind them. "You said you've read the handbook, right? What's the final rule listed for Westcroft girls?"

Felicity closed her eyes and recited from memory. "Above all else, at all times, a Westcroft girl is expected to conduct herself in accordance with the noble traditions of Westcroft College."

"Very good!" Camryn said. Felicity smiled bashfully; as a legacy student, she'd known she would have an easy path to get into Westcroft, but she'd always wanted to be sure she could hold her head up high and say that it was her own academic achievements that had gotten her in. She prided herself on her memory and her study habits. "And that's the sort of thing I'm talking about when I say, 'unwritten rules'. The traditions of Westcroft are very important. That's why your mother told you that experience was your best teacher. She was only acting in accordance with the Tradition of Modesty."

Felicity really wanted to get her notebook out of her backpack and take some notes, but she supposed that would defeat the purpose of 'unwritten rules'. She'd just have to pay close attention and learn them by heart. "The Tradition of Modesty," she repeated.

"That's right." Camryn stepped over to a long row of hooks that stretched up and down the walls around the entrance. "Westcroft girls do not trumpet their achivements. We aren't like your preening Ivy Leaguers, constantly announcing our school and its importance to all and sundry. A Westcroft girl succeeds quietly, and she never, under any circumstances, speaks of anything that happens within its walls."

"Alright," Felicity said. "Got it. Got to be modest--" Her jaw dropped as Camryn started to disrobe, taking off her school uniform and hanging it on an unoccupied hook. The other vacant hook next to it seemed to take on a sinister appearance. "Um...modesty?" she asked pointedly, trying to keep the squeak out of her voice and failing.

"We do have several Traditions here at Westcroft," Camryn said as her skirt hit the floor. "Key among them is the Tradition of Honesty, Felicity. That isn't simply 'telling the truth', not to a Westcroft girl." She slipped off her panties and hung them on the hook. "A Westcroft girl must be prepared to show her true, unvarnished self to her fellows. It is honesty of the spirit, the mind, the body and the soul that we practice here, Felicity. Honesty means freedom from shame." She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, revealing breasts that made Felicity feel inadequate all over again.

"Oh," Felicity responded in a tiny voice. She didn't exactly feel free from shame at the moment--it wasn't that she'd never disrobed in front of other girls, she'd been on the women's swim team for three years at private school and had changed and showered with the team. But this was a whole different context, and Felicity found herself really wanting to be more of a modest Westcroft girl than an honest one.

But Camryn was looking at her as she hung her bra on the hook along with everything else, and Felicity knew now exactly where her mom had gotten that look from. Camryn's face, her body language, her whole demeanor suggested that this was the way the world would be. It wasn't just that she expected Felicity to follow suit, it was that she knew Felicity already had followed suit and reality just hadn't caught up yet.

After only a couple of seconds, the pressure of that stare was too much. Felicity started unbuttoning her own shirt as well, wishing that she could at least muster up the courage to ask Camryn to turn around while she was undressing, but knowing that there wouldn't be much point. She'd be spending the next four years naked, it seemed; best to start getting used to it now. At least now she understood why it was so warm inside.

"Good job, Felicity!" Camryn said. "That took a lot of courage. I remember it took me almost twenty minutes to work up the nerve to take my clothes off, my first day." She smiled conspiratorially. "Between you and me, I was even more desperate to succeed than you."

Felicity smiled. "Between you and me and all the other Westcroft girls, right?" she asked.

Camryn laughed. "Oh, you're catching on quick!" she said. "You're going to be a wonderful addition to the school." She took Felicity's hand again. "Come on," she said. "Let's take a look around."

They walked across the thick carpeting of the great hall to the central staircase. A vast bronze statue of a nude woman stood at the base of the stairs, her arm raised up in a gesture of welcome. "Our founder, Lucretia Westcroft. She started this school a hundred and fifty years ago, taking in a group of girls who had nowhere else to go and turning them into confident, powerful women with the world at their feet. Ever since, the school has found women who are humble, adaptable, and willing to be molded and turned them into the elite of society." She pointed to the plaque at the base of the statue. "The school motto."

"'Dominor Per Obsequium'," Felicity read out loud. She knew she shouldn't feel like she was being tested at every turn, but she wanted to impress Camryn. "To rule...through submitting?" she translated.

"Exactly," Camryn said. "The twin Traditions of Respect and Service. You enter these halls to learn from those who have already passed through them, Felicity, and that process of learning never ends. You must always keep in mind that an older Westcroft girl has been through the same experiences you have, and her advice, counsel and instructions are always to be followed. In thought, which is Respect, and in deed, which is Service. Sometimes, you might not understand why an older girl tells you to do something, or to believe something, but that's just a mark of your inexperience. Only by truly and completely submitting yourself to the wisdom of those who have come before you can you become the strong woman you are destined to be."

Felicity shook her head. "I don't feel like I'll ever be a strong woman," she said. "I look at my mom, and all her friends who went to Westcroft, and I always feel...weak, when I compare myself to them. They're all so..." She fluttered her hands helplessly. "It's not that they're not nice. Mom's friends said they were all looking forward to seeing me after I graduated and finding out what Westcroft made of me. It's just that they're so intimidating. I try so hard to please them, and I think I do, but it always feels like I need to try harder, do better, be more like they want me to be. It feels like a never-ending struggle." She sighed. "Sometimes it feels like I'd do anything to make them truly happy with me."

Unexpectedly, Camryn hugged her. Felicity went almost rigid with shock--she wasn't used to getting tight hugs from naked women, especially not when she was naked as well. "Oh, but that's wonderful! That is just..." She leaned back and beamed at Felicity, then hugged her tightly again. "It took me years to gain the kind of understanding you already possess, Felicity. The hardest part of truly becoming a Westcroft girl is learning that compared to those who have come before us, we *are* weak. You already understand that you become a better person when you please your elders in Westcroft, and you're willing to do anything it takes to do so."

Felicity froze in place as Camryn showed no signs of breaking her embrace. She didn't want to offend the other girl by trying to disentangle herself, but at the same time, she was worried about how it might look if another girl came down the stairs to find the two of them in each other's arms. "Um, thanks," she said, unsure of how to react to the praise any more than the hug. "I never really, um, thought of it like that."

Camryn let her go, and Felicity breathed an internal sigh of relief. "Then it's time you started," she said, leading Felicity to the stairs. "Changing the way you think is an important part of the teaching here at Westcroft, and everyone here is a teacher--the alumni and your fellow students as well as the professors."

As they headed up the stairs, she continued. "Of course, actual subject matter is generally left to the professors--although as part of the Traditions of Altruism and Service, you'll be expected to help your fellow girls in their studies just as they'll help you. But there are some lessons that only experience teaches, and we'll all be teaching you those, just as you'll be teaching the younger girls over the next few years."

They passed a group of women that looked barely older than Felicity, cleaning the walls and floors in the nude. "We don't have a cleaning staff here," Camryn said by way of explanation. "It's part of the Tradition of Service, we're all expected to spend a portion of our free time doing chores. There is no work that is below a Westcroft girl, just as there is no ambition too lofty for one."

Camryn leaned over and swatted one of the girls heavily on the buttocks as she lifted a bucket full almost to the brim with soapy water. The girl didn't even flinch, nor spill a drop. "Excellent job, Gwen," Camryn said. She turned back to Felicity. "A Westcroft girl must be able to perform under trying circumstances. The Tradition of Discipline demands that we must do our duty with quiet dignity, even when the unexpected happens." She smacked Gwen on the ass again. "Of course, Gwen's probably grown to expect this sort of thing by now, haven't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Gwen said quietly. She didn't sound sullen or resentful, Felicity noticed. She sounded grateful and slightly proud, as though she'd just passed a test and was happy for the opportunity to show it. Felicity felt a little worried. Would she be able to do the same when someone spanked her?

Felicity felt a brief moment of disorientation at the thought. Her head seemed to swim with the effort of keeping up with each new Tradition as Camryn explained it. This morning, she'd been thinking about getting good grades, keeping up with her studies, and now she was worrying if she could take a bare-ass paddling without whimpering. It seemed downright surreal.

But at the same time, this was too important to her not to succeed at it. Camryn was right; she didn't understand why she needed to do all these things. But everyone she'd ever looked up to in life was a good Westcroft girl, and that meant she needed to be one too. And if they'd all been through four years of this, then how could she do any less and still look them in the eye?

So she stared straight at Camryn, and said, "I understand. I'll do my best to live up to the school's expectations." She felt odd saying it, like she'd just signed a blood contract.

"Wonderful," Camryn said, beaming. "Now come along," she said, taking Felicity's hand once more, "it's time to show you to your dormitory. The girls here have semi-private rooms--that's the Tradition of Honesty again, there are no doors on any of the dorm rooms, but you will have your own room that you can decorate freely. Naturally, the Tradition of Honesty also relieves you of the need for a lot of personal possessions, like clothes, make-up, and--oh, hang on." She stopped outside of one of the classrooms. "There's a class going on right now that we can watch."

Felicity crinkled her brow in confusion. "I thought classes didn't start until next week," she said nervously. If breaking unwritten rules was a secret fear, then missing classes she didn't know she had was a literal recurring nightmare.

Camryn spoke quietly as she eased the door open, revealing a room full of nude women. "Formal classes don't start until next week," she said, "but the teachers offer informal instruction year-round, and the Traditions of Discipline and Service demand that if a teacher offers us instruction, we should take it." Camryn sounded almost reverential as she spoke of the professors.

"And of course, the central question Miller asks is one that Willy Loman never does--why does he fail? When he speaks to Ben--oh, hello, Camryn," the teacher said, breaking off her speech and smiling. Felicity noticed that she, too, was nude, with a sculpted body that suggested lots of hard work and exercise. All the students looked just as fit, and Felicity realized belatedly that all of her mother's friends looked the same way; the Tradition of Honesty probably set them on some good habits for keeping in shape. Being naked all the time certainly gave you an incentive to stay trim.

"Hello, Ms Tannenbaum," Camryn said with a shy wave. The change in her demeanor was almost startling; suddenly, watching her around an older student, Felicity saw in Camryn the same humility and eagerness to please that she felt when she was around the older girl. "I was just showing Felicity around, and I thought she might like to see the classroom in action."

"Good idea!" Ms Tannenbaum responded. "Then I'll continue. When he speaks to Ben, his brother, Willy hears tales of effortless success and easy riches. How does Ben make his money, Kathy?"

One of the girls in the back of the class stood up. The girl sitting next to her dropped to her knees and buried her face between Kathy's thighs, and Felicity goggled to see that she was licking away at Kathy's shaven pussy with a sudden abandon. "He says, ma'am, 'When I walked into the jungle, I was 17. When I walked out, I was 21, and by God I was rich.'" Kathy was breathing heavily and shaking slightly, but she remained standing and delivered her answer without hesitation.

"Omigod," Felicity blurted out, and the whole class turned to look at her. She felt the pressure of their stares like a physical weight. They obviously didn't think there was anything strange about the lesbian sex going on right in front of them, but they certainly seemed to be surprised by Felicity's dismay.

"Um, sorry," she whispered, flushing beet red. "Didn't mean to interrupt." Her head swam in confusion again. She was watching two girls passionately make out in class, and yet she was the one who felt embarrassed.

"Very good, Kathy," Ms Tannenbaum said. "And how does this inform Willy's attempts to start a garden?"

Kathy was clearly affected by the other girl's ministrations now, and Felicity could see moisture on the kneeling girl's face. But she continued to speak as a second girl stepped behind her and reached around to pinch her nipples. "He's...planting his seeds out of season, in the wrong place at night. He believes that...just the effort will be enough."

"Very, very good, Kathy," Ms Tannenbaum responded. Felicity watched as Kathy's whole body shuddered hard, her orgasm almost completely stifled but obvious nonetheless.

Camryn closed the door. "That shocked you, didn't it, Felicity," Camryn said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Felicity said shakily. "I--she--I mean, they, and...will I...?" She couldn't even begin to process it all. She suddenly wanted to scrap Westcroft, scrap the family history and the Traditions and all of it and run. But she couldn't. Her brain locked up, trapped between the demands of a lifetime of society's upbringing and the one thing she'd always been taught was more important...Westcroft College for Women.

"The Tradition of Discipline is not always about pain," Camryn said gently, taking her arm and leading her unresistingly down the hall. "It's equally important to learn how to stay focused through pleasure, as well. And through embarrassment--many girls were every bit as shocked as you were when they first came to Westcroft, but they learned that pleasure is nothing to be ashamed of and that poise comes from within."

"But--but--" Felicity tried to find something to cling to, some element of herself, but the weight of traditions she hadn't even known existed before today pressed down upon her.